Every year if you consider it as a number, you’re getting
older. Every year if you consider it as a lesson, you’re getting stronger. And
every year if you consider it as a journey, you’re getting wiser. I consider a year
as a layer of all of this. People count years for you too, and they do it
pretty well in my case by counting the grays in my hair. To those who’re worrying
about salt-and-pepper, add a feather to it than cover it in fake colour!

I look back on this day at the journey I’ve been lead on.
Fortunately I always had my camera with me on these occasions, but have also missed
it on many other. Along the way I learnt a few great lessons, but today I’d
like to focus on memories of the time I spent in Maharashtra’s untouched
shorelines and the historic central Indian highlands. I learnt that photography
is not always about your subject, it is about you envisioning your subject, it
is about you presenting your vision of the subject to the viewers. Here’s my
vision of the journey, some of which have not debuted on Sahyadrica before.

A quick glance back at 2013 without further ado.

January | Man and WetlandSindhudurg, Maharashtra
This estuary, an amalgamation of mangroves, oyster-beds, fringed by villages, is one
of the most beautiful places to observe man and nature living together.
It is also one of the most underappreciated ecosystems in India.

January | A Built WetlandJayakwadi Bird Sanctuary, Maharashtra
One of the largest dams in India on River Godavari, Jayakwadi offers sanctuary to migratory as well as resident birds
associated with wetlands, while at the same time meets the human needs for agriculture and industry.

February | Sunrise on the KonkanSindhudurg, Maharashtra
Tondavali is a small village sandwiched between a creek and the sea to form a
tombolo, a beautiful but fragile strip of land along the coastline of Maharashtra.
Increasing surges of storms and the overall sea-level rise pose a serious treat to
this inhabited strip.

February | A Burst of the SunTungareshwar Wildlife Sanctuary, Maharashtra
Light and shadows filter through Wild Grapes as they pass through the canopy of this exquisite forest, a declared
sanctuary which serves as a corridor for the arrested Sanjay Gandhi National Park to its south.

March | Trawlers of SindhudurgSindhudurg, Maharashtra
Sindhudurg has been witnessing strife between traditional fisher-folk and mechanized fishermen for quite a few decades.
The Malvan shore is riddled by trawling boats, which come along the shore to unload the catch and reload resources
for another expedition in the sea.

March | White-bellied Sea Eagle and the CrowSindhudurg, Maharashtra
A soaring predator of the sea, the White-bellied Sea Eagle (Haliaeetus leucogaster) is common along the coastline
of Maharashtra, preferring to nest on towering Casuarinas overlooking the seas. They hint for fish from the sea, but
are being increasingly troubled by crows whose populations has increased in even the remotest of coastal villages.

April | The Holy FigSindhudurg, Maharashtra
Fig trees, especially Ficus religiosa, are common in and around temples in India. Some of the largest and oldest ones are
preserved as sacred groves in the Konkan, serving as a sanctuary in itself for many animals.

April | Spotted OwletSindhudurg, Maharashtra
A common resident of rural India, the Spotted Owlet (Athene brama) nests in tree
cavities or manmade structures, living a simple life by feeding on insects and small
vertebrates, but like other owls, it is also considered a bad omen and given a chance,
some people would rather have it killed for their superstitious beliefs.

May | The Stages of DeathMumbai, Maharashtra
A small Magnolia sapling in my balcony flowers once in a year or two, and shrinks
and dries in summer in an eventful display of the stages of its shutting-down for the
summer. But its death is only for the season until it sprouts fresh leaves in monsoon.

May | OcypodeSindhudurg, Maharashtra
A phantom of the Konkan shores, you will commonly see this crab flitting across the surface of the sand, leaving
behind a mark of its nimble feet. They live as a community, and are primarily filter-feeders and scavengers, keeping
the beaches clean of dead and rotting fishes.

June | Magic of First Monsoon ShowersTungareshwar Wildlife Sanctuary, Maharashtra
The first showers are celebrated by plants with a rather colourful display of tender leaves and flowers.Chlorophytum tuberosum is one of Konkan's ephemeral herbs that flowers with the first rains and dies off within weeks.

June | Brahminy Kite against Monsoon CloudsPhansad Wildlife Sanctuary, Maharashtra
If you're in India, the Brahminy Kite (Haliastur indus) is a sign that you're near a wetland, mostly an estuary or the sea. Absence of these kites and presence of a large number of Black Kite (Milvus migrans), an opportunist bird of prey of India, is a sign of a degrading wetland ecosystem. It usually means that there is more garbage in the area.

July | The Union of Two RiversKanha Tiger Reserve, Madhya Pradesh
Jamunia to the left and Banjar to the right unite as one as they ultimately join River Narmada further north. These two
rivers are one of the many unexploited blood-vessels of India's famed Kanha Tiger Reserve, as they feed farms, breed
fish, and quench the thirst of the wildlife and mankind alike.

July | Threat display of Buff-striped KeelbackKanha Tiger Reserve, Madhya Pradesh
One of the most common snakes of India, Amphiesma stolatum is also called saat-beheni (seven sisters) by the locals
because they are believed to live as a community. Although I've never observed it, this behaviour is quite similar
to that of Garter Snakes of the Americas, to which this snake superficially resembles. What we see here is the snake
trying to display its hood and raise its neck to appear threatening, a position mastered much profoundly by the cobra.

August | Tiger versus the JungleKanha Tiger Reserve, Madhya Pradesh
I've never craved to see a tiger, wild or tamed. It was while working in the villages that we were informed of a tigress
which got lost in the heavy downpour and got stuck on the village side of a fence separating the core of Kanha from
the settlement. It was clear that fencing is a boon as well as a curse for wildlife, but fortunately the Forest Department
rescued the tigress and she was back on her track, rather in her cage.

August | The Vegetarian VampireKanha Tiger Reserve, Madhya Pradesh
An Indian Flying Fox (Pteropus giganteus) perches patiently on a fruiting Fig tree, Ficus virens, with the moon shining
on its back. A lot of urbanites believe all bats to be carnivorous and dangerous, but that's just a superstition born out of
television shows. Bats are one of the most efficient dispersers of Figs, especially in urban areas where birds feeding on
fig are less in diversity.

September | Man-made GrasslandsKanha Tiger Reserve, Madhya Pradesh
Several villages have been relocated from Protected Areas across the world. Some have voluntarily decided to relocate
because of the threat from wildlife to life and crops. In Kanha, villages relocated many years ago have transformed into
lush grasslands, attracting ungulates to feed on this newly-restored ecosystem.

September | A Tale of Many TailsBanjar River, Madhya Pradesh
A scuffle between the alpha and another male made these Common Langur (Semnopithecus entellus) stand in rapt
attention. With tails wagging here and there, and a spat between the two males to an end, the troupe settled down as
one by one each started eating leaves and mud from the termite mound.

October | Kanha's MeadowKanha Tiger Reserve, Madhya Pradesh
Kanha is home to some of the finest meadows of the central Indian highlands. They form the dancing ground of the deer and the prancing field of a tiger.

October | The Hymenopteran TitansKanha Tiger Reserve, Madhya Pradesh
When a Carpenter Ant approached this nest-building Spider Wasp, both sized up one another, the ant with her
mandibles, and the wasp with her sting. The ant decided to avoid a clash with the expecting mother by backing away.

November | Winter Sun through Ancient WingsKanha Tiger Reserve, Madhya Pradesh
Sun would be the only testimony for the wings that have changed very little over millions of years,
if man never found fossilized dragonflies.

November | Of Snakes and FrogsKanha Tiger Reserve, Madhya Pradesh
A Buff-striped Keelback devouring a frog (Fejervarya sp.) from the opposite end. Snakes usually devour their prey
head-first, but thisyoung snake was probably just learning, but successfully gulped this frog within five minutes.

December | Scaly-breasted Munia in a Sea of GrassKanha Tiger Reserve, Madhya Pradesh
The favourite food of this munia (Lonchura punctulata), is grass seeds. They are common in rural India and urban
periphery, where they make use of windows or bamboo groves to build a nest with long blades of grass. They are
also commonly bought as pets, which is illegal and should be shunned by citizens.

December | Emerald SpreadwingsKanha Tiger Reserve, Madhya Pradesh
Emerald Spreadwing (Lestes sp.) are damselflies which emerge by the end of monsoon.
They live as a community and roost as one by hanging one below the other.

I wish you all a very happy new year and a great start
for what’s to come!

I need no call of
clamant bell that rings
iron-tongued in the towers of earthly kings.

-Mettanyë
by J. R. R. Tolkien, The Book of Lost Tales Part I

Deep in the woodlands of Konkan, there are areas reigned by
a particular creature: the forest floor, the leaves and the tree trunk, are booming
with a frenzy of this small, nimble-footed, bright yellow-coloured insect
carrying a lethal spray-gun of formic acid. It is called Anoplolepis gracilipes, and is more commonly referred as the Yellow
Crazy Ant. This story is about these ants, on what they mean to be in India’s
forests (more specifically northern Western Ghats), and forms a prelude to a
larger story which has not been enacted in India yet, but has been and has lead
to drastic changes in landscapes in several parts of the world.

Taxonomically, the Yellow Crazy Ant (Anoplolepis gracilipes) is an ant in the family Formicidae
(subfamily Formicinae, tribe Plagiolepidini). There are over 22 species
identified so far under Anoplolepis
genus, most of them unheard of outside their native range. A. gracilipes is one of the few ants rather renowned for all the
wrong reasons an animal (read: man) is known for: overpopulation and
overexploitation, and the resultant self-centered development and destruction.
But where mankind fails, this ant succeeds: its rule is completely in the lines
of the natural limit of a species.

It is one of the several species of ants (about 15 to 20
species according to this article)
capable of forming super-colonies, which are much similar to metropolitan
cities which encompass several other cities, towns, and villages within their
defined boundaries. A super-colony is just that, with millions, in some
recorded cases billions, of members, each with a particular role to play, and
several queens which keep the colony populated.

Ants are probably best studied for their precise division of
labour, and this is what we’ve studied so far in text-books: a queen ant (and a
drone ant), several workers and soldiers, constitute a colony with defined
roles. This monogynous colony is, however, only a minute aspect of the complex
social life of ants. In a super-colony pioneered by the founding queen, several
daughter queens carrying the same genes as the founder slowly spread over an
area. Just as the founder, these queens also lay foundations of their colony,
consisting of workers and soldiers and so on, and all these colonies share
their labour and ultimately cover a significant area of a landscape to be
called a super-colony (also called polygynous colony). Although there is no
specific mathematics I’m aware of which labels an ant colony as a super-colony,
such colonies are spread over a large area, and the impact of their rule in
their landscape is what provides us with the calculable damage in terms of loss
of biodiversity.

A. gracilipes is a
highly adaptive ant, capable of travelling like its fellow humans on ships and
airplanes, and quickly get acclimatized under ideal conditions. It is one of
the several invasive species that have been transported and “accidentally”
introduced into other regions. Some species prove to be detrimental to the
local biodiversity, for example, accidental introduction of rats to some of the
New Zealand group of islands wrecked havoc on its ground-dwelling fauna,
especially seabirds which nest on the ground, leading to macro-level ecological
modifications and intricate micro-level changes such as reduction of soil
nutrition on such islands and alteration of fungal community structures (Peay et al. 2012). In case of A. gracilipes, it is their subtlety and
the prospect of sudden proliferation under ideal conditions for which they have
been on the radar of ecologists for quite a few decades.

A troupe of Yellow Crazy Ants; they are called "crazy ants" because they exhibit random movement when disturbedPhansad Wildlife Sanctuary, 2013

A story worth sharing about A. gracilipes is from Christmas Island in the Indian Ocean. The ant
was probably introduced here between 1915 and 1934, however it was never
considered as a threat then. In 1990s, a sudden explosion of A. gracilipes colonies was observed,
with experts reporting as high as 79 million workers per hectare. This outbreak
was linked to the outbreak of scale insects, which are Hemipteran bugs
producing “honeydew”, which is actually their poop. The scale insects feed on
plant sap, and excrete excess sugars (hence the name honeydew). These super-colonies
lead to drastic change in the island’s ecosystem, with keystone species such as
a Christmas Island Red Land Crabs
being preyed upon by the ants (more on the history and present status of these
ants on Christmas Island here).

The native distribution of A. gracilipes is still debated, but is centered somewhere around south-east
Asia, including India (with scientists suggesting West Africa, India or China (source)).
Given India’s climatic and biogeographical diversity, I shall assume that A. gracilipes was either already present
in India or was naturally introduced to the subcontinent. With this assumption
in mind, what makes it an alien in its own native land is something that
bothers me.

So far in my explorations in the Sahyadri, I’ve seen these
ants in great numbers only at Yeoor Hills and Nagla Block, both a part of the
Sanjay Gandhi National Park, and Phansad Wildlife Sanctuary, with a few
scattered, or small, colonies in Matheran Eco-sensitive Zone, Karnala Bird
Sanctuary, and Tungareshwar Wildlife Sanctuary. Although this number is small, the image of
seeing vast stretches of forest-floor riddled by just one particular ant is
baffling.

At places in Yeoor Hills, Nagla Block and Phansad WLS, they
stretch for at least a kilometer in their expanse, with their members streaming
in all directions possible. These areas are typically characterized by a
startling lack of other invertebrate or reptilian diversity in the area. To
understand what makes them so gregarious, there are several points worth noting
about A. gracilipes, we’ll look at
them one by one.

Area specificity:
These ants are almost always seen in forested areas. It is worth noting that I
have not seen them in urbanized areas nor rural areas but specifically in
forested areas, with the exception being Ovala Village on the periphery of SGNP
which has a good tree cover. On Christmas Island, these ants were also reported
to be around Christmas Island National Park Boundaries.

Breeding capacity and
nesting preferences: As stated earlier, these ants are prolific breeders
and live co-operatively with their sister colonies. Also, they are not choosy
about their nesting sites, and have been seen to nest on open ground, in
leaf-litter and in tree crevasses. A number of these were observed at Phansad
WLS, precisely at Chikhal-gaan, with the ants swarming the entire trunk of the tree
which was over 5 meters tall.

Broad range of diet:
This ant is an excellent scavenger, and has been sighted scavenging on a
road-kill of a Saw-scaled Viper (Echis
carinatus).They are excellent predators, and have been seen taking down a
teneral Arctiid moth. They are excellent opportunists, and have been sighted
tending to aphids and scale-insects.

Competitiveness: The
presence of these ants is marked by the absence of other common ants of Konkan’s
forests: the Weaver Ant (Oceophylla
smargdina), Polyrhachis sp., Camponotus angusticollis, Camponotus compressus, Camponotus irritans, and Cataulacus sp, as well we termites. The
only ant tolerant to A. gracilipes is
Crematogaster sp. or to an extent Camponotus sps., and are seen in the
same area where A. gracilipes
pervade. It is worth nothing that all except Camponotus sps. are especially known to nest on trees. Since A. gracilipes is mostly found nesting or
scavenging on the ground, it can be assumed that its impact on canopy diversity
is lesser than that on the ground, however places such as Phansad WLS, as
mentioned before, may tell a different story.

The most common resident ants and termites of Konkan, with 1, 2, and 7 preferring to nest on the ground,,
and 3, 4, 5, and 6 preferring to nest on trees.

A. gracilipes do
not bite or sting, but squirt formic acid in defense, which causes irritation
on contact with skin. I have not seen A.
gracilipes engaged in a battle with the above mentioned ants, or termites,
but they do compete indirectly in terms of food resources, given their broad
range of diet. This therefore also affects the local biodiversity by preying
upon it.

A watchful guardPhansad Wildlife Sanctuary, 2013

Perhaps most important
reason which makes this ant a winner of the forest-floor is their genetic
makeup: Perhaps God, if he exists, has finally created a master species to
precede mankind in terms of overpopulation. Experts say that mutation can lead
to the collapse of their empire, with this
article sighting a scenario where a queen ant, because of mutation, begins to
lay eggs which give birth only to queens. If this is the case, the colony will
soon start collapsing upon itself as these queens would also give birth to
queens.

There are several other ants worth mentioning which are
highly invasive, such as the Argentine Ant (Linepithema
humile), which has been recorded as world’s largest super-colony covering
an area of 6000 sq. km. in Europe alone. What’s special about A. gracilipes is its potential invasiveness
in its native range (if India is its native range).

I find that A.
gracilipes also represents an indicator species paradox, which is quite
similar to invasion paradox. In invasion paradox, as questioned by Fridley et al: are rich native communities more or less susceptible to
invasion by exotic species? The authors noted that “…natively rich ecosystems
are likely to be hotspots for exotic species, but that reduction of local
species richness can further accelerate the invasion of these and other
vulnerable habitats”.

As seen in the Christmas Island story, this ant is capable
of forming super-colonies in presence of a preferred food source, which
indicates that there is an abundance of a certain species, in this case the
scale insect, or it indicates that there is an abundance of other species which
the ants can easily prey upon given their broad range of diet. This means that
presence of A. gracilipes is either
the indicator of a disturbed, or a diverse ecosystem, but this diversity is
what brought the ant to prey upon it and made it strong enough to establish a
super-colony, thereby depleting this diversity. This paradox differs from the
invasion paradox since it is only applicable in an organism’s native range.

A football sized nest of Weaver Ant (Oecophylla smargdina),
the largest I've ever seen containing several satellite colonies around itKurne Village, 2012

This begs for another question: why aren’t other ants, such
as the Weaver Ant, Carpenter Ant, and the Crematogaster, as invasive as the
Yellow Crazy Ant? Part of the answer lies in the monogynous-type of colonies
these ants create. As soon as a queen is born, she flies off, finds a drone
most probably of another genetically-different colony, and establishes her own independent
colony. Ants of other colony do not tolerate queens of the same or different
colony to establish the nest near their empire, and kill the queen. In addition,
their birth rate and food preference also play a major force on their colony
size.

In conclusion, this story has not concluded, but just begun.
No research has been undertaken in India yet but prospective enthusiasts can,
and should. Whether or not this ant is native to India, given its recorded
impact in other regions, it is worth to understand their role in India’s
ecology. In fact whether it is the species in question, A. gracilipes, or another from the genus Anoplolepis, also remains open to debate. Such a study, if you are
fond of insects and have a penchant for roaming the forests, wouldn’t even cost
much. Some of the key aspects to study this ant are given below:

Assess biodiversity of the area and determine
species diversity and density in areas in presence and absence of A. gracilipes (for invertebrates, vertebrates,
as well as flora).

Identify this ant’s food preferences.

Observe this ant’s interaction with other ants
(arboreal as well as ground-dwelling).

Replicate same study for other areas containing
super-colonies, and compare this along with their genetic makeup with a similar
study at other geographically distant area.

Areas I have identified are SGNP (especially
Yeoor Hills and Nagla Block, as observed in 2012) and Phansad WLS, as observed
in 2013, which are both quite distant from each other but share similar
climatic and geographic features.

Initiate a citizen science project where
naturalists from all corners of India can submit their records of A. gracilipes colonies.

Please note that the objective of this story or the proposed
study is not to belittle our little crazy ant, but to understand, and be amazed
by, the role of these underappreciated group of organisms in the functioning of
an ecosystem at micro and macro-level.

Jamunia (or Jamuniya) is a river flowing from the village
of Mandai, across the buffer zone of Kanha Tiger reserve, and uniting Banjar River
in Bhimlat, in the southern district of Balaghat, which then joins River
Narmada in the district of Mandla, in the state of Madhya Pradesh. It is a
small river, carrying slurry of shimmering mica and fine sand at some places,
and rocks polished into pebbles in others. She has seen the kingdoms of the
Gond and the Marathas, and quenched the thirst of tigers in the long gone era.
Along her course she feeds rice and wheat, bathes people, and is a source of
nutritious diet of fishes for the locals. Along her course, she is also witness
to over-dredging of sand. I have seen her flowing subtly – almost singing, I
have seen her reduced to a trickle, and I have seen her wrath during floods, as
have all her children. She is just another river I cross over every day, but
she is special in her place as are all the rivers of the world.

Riverine ecosystems are most exploited because of their
basic natural riches; fertile lands and waters. Dinosaurs roamed and died by
rivers, civilizations rose and fell along rivers; and man exploited this
element as if he owned her. Jamunia, for all her length and breadth, is one of
the few lucky and rather untouched ones, treading along her own way wherever
she may roam. I wish I could say the same for every river in the valley, but the
point is that we depend upon them so hopelessly that we have lost the sense of respect
for them. What we do now is exploit rivers, the mother of human civilizations,
in the name of development and blind faith.

If you’re a curious naturalist, and are amazed by little
natural, but seemingly supernatural, feats all non-humans are capable of, be it
your pet dog, cat, the wild tiger, or your unknown companion the ant, you are
bound to have understood how closely related we all are albeit the fact that
we’ve classified ourselves and made them appear quite distant from us. One of
the startlingly familiar features common through almost all, if not the entire,
Animal (or Plant) Kingdom, is motherly care. Mother was chosen to be the most
beautiful word in English, and indeed it is, for it has a profound meaning incomparable
to any – and by this I mean it is universal in (almost) all life.

I talked with much enthusiasm in 2010 about a mother wasp I had
the fortune to be amazed by. It was an Ammophila
wasp (Digger wasp), I had documented in the October heat of 2008, absorbed in
ensuring that her offspring received plenty food and protection from outside
elements. Now, as then, I met with another mother wasp absorbed in the same
manner on an October day (the 12th), and I’m going to reiterate the
story here. The catch is in how different yet similar both these distantly-related
wasps are.

Before we begin, it is worth considering the season in which
these wasps were seen nesting. October, the month following monsoon, sees a
distinct rise in flowering of plants – and that means a surplus of food. Insects
relying directly on flowers for their nectar and pollen, especially bees and
wasps, beetles and butterflies, see a momentary peak in their numbers and
diversity. Indeed, predators preying on these, like ants and spiders, also see
an increase in their numbers. The best example is of the Giant Wood Spider whose
females build elaborate orb-shaped webs high in the tree canopy in forests across
India.

The twist in this seemingly linear flow of energy from
herbivore to carnivore is rather humorous, for the herbivores also hunt the
carnivores, as did our mother wasp, who is strictly vegetarian relying on
pollen for survival, to secure a (strictly carnivorous) prey for her unborn
offspring.

October precedes the cold and dry months of November, where
plant activity begins to reduce, waterholes start to shrink, and the insect
diversity slowly decreases. This month therefore, how-much-ever people in India
hate for its oppressive weather, allergies to pollen, and humidity, is a bounty
for the insects before the long break of the next wet season. In October, you
will find the activities of mating and laying eggs – of making sure the
progenies survive – is strife with competition, but is as mellow as a mother’s
love. I hope our mother wasp distills the common perception of insects as senseless
beings and throws some light on their amazing life.

A paralyzed Giant Wood Spider (Nephila pilipes)4:15:26 PM

[Note: time given in the image is the time when the
photograph was taken. It may not coincide with the time given in the text, for
that time was recorded separately, however it falls in the time periods mentioned
here.]

On a walk along the edge of the Central Indian forest, I happened
across a dead Giant Wood Spider (Nephila pilipes).
The time was approximately 4:05 PM. The sun was low in the sky, a few clouds
hung in the east, and the air was still. A few inches from the nest was a
burrow and some dug-up soil. After a moment, a wasp, golden-headed, bronze-winged,
black bodied, stilt-legged, and stern of intentions as a Spartan, emerged,
abdomen-first, with soil stuck to her mandibles, excavating and making the
burrow deeper as the spider lay paralysed. She was a Spider Wasp in the family
Pompilidae, a specialist in hunting spiders.

A Spider Wasp in the family Pompilidae digging a burrow4:07:07 PM

Her narrow waist, intense eyes, an abdomen tapering down to
a sting, should warn you she’s a wasp capable of a painful sting. But that’s
not her only intention – in fact, that happens to be her last intention in life
– her main intentions are feeding on
flowers (thereby unknowingly pollinating), founding
for a new life with a handsome male wasp perched atop a shrub, and then finding a suitable place to nest and a
suitable prey of a suitable size, (for simplicity, I call it 3F’s of a spider
wasp’s life prior to 3D’s). This is followed by getting down to digging, dragging, and drowning
(3D’s of a spider wasp’s post 3F life). We don’t know how much effort that
takes, for we've never been hunting with a knife attached to our behind.

...investigating the paralyzed spider.4:07:13 PM

We can only imagine how she completed the 3F’s of her life –
I’m sure it was not easy, what with ferocious birds flying around which would
welcomingly kill her if they knew how to tackle her sting. And there were
spider-webs, which, whether for irony or co-incidence, also happen to be the weapon
of the spiders, her prey.

...making the burrow deeper4:13:27 PM

When I saw her, she was already in the Digging stage of her
life.

She removed the soil using her forelimbs, and probably her
mandibles, and after every 3 to 5 to 11 minutes, she went and checked on her
prey lying still. How did she find her prey, the Giant Wood Spider, is
interesting. They are known to build some of the strongest webs in the world,
are pretty huge considering their habit of hanging in their golden orb-webs
from trees, and are also aggressive. Maneuvering to sting this hanging spider
is also truly spectacular, unless she somehow managed to knock off the spider
to the ground and then get the good of it.

When I came upon the Digging scene, most of the burrow was
already dug. The hole was exactly the size to fit the spider into. It made me
wonder if she inherently made the burrow of that size, or could she measure the
spider to make the burrow. It further begs the question about the time she
killed the spider: did she kill the spider after or before making the burrow?

Since the time I saw her at 4:05 until 5:05, she was
digging, probably making the burrow longer if not wider. That’s 60 minutes of
non-stop digging using only her feet and her mandibles.

...a mother warning a potentially threatening Carpenter Ant4:18:11 PM

When she came across a Carpenter Ant (Camponotus compressus), sheS flung her forelimbs in the air, curved
her abdomen, and warned the intruder of the grave mistake she’d commit. The ant
opened her mandibles but decided to take a detour. On another occasion, she
chased a dragonfly when it flew by too close. And on another, she whizzed by me
for making sudden movements.

[Note: For photographing such a subject, one has to be extremely
cautious and slow of movements – not because of the threat of getting stung,
but because of the fear that the subject might feel threatened and abandon the
activity which can even cost its or its unborn offspring’s life. I had no option
then than to crouch and lay still.]

...using her mandibles to clear the dirt4:20:31 PM

The sun was streaking far in the west, the shadows were lengthening,
and the air was cooling down. The ground was wet from previous night’s rain. And
our wasp was face-deep in the soil making a burrow of the exact shape and size which
her mother, and her mother’s mother, and so on until you go back thousands,
probably a million years, once did. Some scientists say that a wasp’s hunting
skills improve with experience; in other words they refine their skills of the
3F’s and 3D’s – which also means that they undergo these stages multiple times
in their lives.

A habitat shot showing the wasp on her burrow and the paralyzed spider along the edge of trees4:28:28 PM

Spider wasps particularly target only spiders. I am not sure
whether a species would target multiple species in her lifetime, for that will
involve different strategies. Wasps known as Tarantula Wasp particularly hunts
tarantulas of a particular genus only. Several spider wasps in India, whose
taxonomic tangle is best left to be resolved by the taxonomists, also hunt
Huntsman Spiders, Wolf Spiders, and Orb-weavers such as Neoscona sp. All except the latter dwell on ground. I came across a
Spider Wasp hunting a Giant Wood Spider for the first time. Unfortunately I
could not find any published record of the same. But to be able to do this, as
I mentioned before, is quite remarkable.

The two scenarios of the wasp stinging the spider in the
web, or after dropping it to the ground, are both quite distinct compared to
wasps which hunt ground spiders. Could a wasp preferring ground spiders do
this? Or did this wasp only hunt orb-weaving spiders, or in particular only the
Giant Woods? Furthermore, how did she manage to fly with this heavy prey to the burrow? And while I was stuck at that thought (and still am), the wasp
changed to Dragging stage of her life.

Remember I told you she checked on her prey every once in a
while? Every time she did it, I thought we were at the Dragging stage, but this
stage in real took approximately 60 minutes, and lasted only for 3 minutes.

...dragging the spider to the burrow5:05:32 PM

She kept the spider beside the burrow, and went in to investigate, probably for the
last touch-up. This stage, only lasting for about 20 seconds, is very important
amongst all burrowing wasps.

...a typical behaviour of all burrowing wasps where they keep the prey outside and go in to investigate one last time.5:05:45 PM

I’ve mentioned this behaviour in the previous post as well.
Observed and elaborated first by Daniel Dennett, he showed that if, once the
wasp goes in to inspect the burrow, the prey is moved to a distance – the wasp
will come out, seek out the prey, lay it beside the nest, and go back in to
investigate. Every time you do this, the wasp does the same. He termed it
“antisphexishness”, after the wasps in the family Sphecidae in which he
observed this behaviour, calling it “how seemingly thoughtful behaviour can
actually be quiet mindless, this is opposite of freewill”. I decided against making
the same observation in Spider Wasps, and let her go about her business.

...taking the spider to its grave5:06:06 PM

She then came out, maneuvered herself so that she could pull
the spider abdomen-first, entered the burrow abdomen-first, and dragged it in.

...she seemed to have got stuck for a few seconds while pulling the spider5:06:30 PM

She seemed to have got stuck while dragging the spider in,
probably because of the long limbs of the spider, but she pulled a bit further
and then disappeared.

...emerging from the burrow after securing the spider, and probably laying an egg5:07:53 PM

In about 20 seconds, I saw her clearing the entrance to the
burrow of roots and soil as she came back up. And here we come to the end of
the Dragging stage and enter the Drowning stage (Drowning in context of this
article means burring of the paralyzed spider).

...burying the entrance5:12:34 PM

As soon as she emerged, she tossed some soil over the burrow
using her forelimbs, and covered it to the rim. She did this for about 2
minutes, and then, using her abdomen as, literally, a hammer, she hammered the
soil down until it was firm enough.

...using the tip of her abdomen to pack the soil into the burrow5:16:27 PM

This behaviour is another revelation to me – for that end is
not only a powerful stinger, but also an ovipositor (from where an egg is
laid). Using it as a hammer, and with a speed I cannot fathom, she made sure
that the soil over the burrow was packed well to keep the egg safe.

...catapulting the soil particles away from the burrow5:32:18 PM

After filling the soil, she started flinging the leftover
soil away from the nest. She did so quite efficiently using her fore- and
hind-limbs as anchor, and using her middle appendages as a catapult.

A portrait of the mother and her nest as she cleared the remaining soil from the site5:39:49 PM

She made sure that the extra soil was two inches away from
the burrow, and then proceeded to remove the roots and other material from the
site.

...clearing the bits and pieces of roots from the nest site5:43:03 PM

She gave the final touch to the burrow at approximately 5:58
PM.

...a safe sanctuary to the unborn wasp5:58:38 PM

With the final stage at its end, and with the wasp now
satisfied that the burrow was perfectly covered to resemble the nearby ground,
she flew off, rested on a shrub for a few seconds, and vanished in the cool of
the twilight.

The drowning stage took 50 minutes (digging took 60 minutes and dragging 3 minutes), and the overall time
taken for the 3D’s was 113 minutes (1.53 hours). We can only imagine how long
the 3F’s took, but it is fair to assume that this wasp has been on the run for
most of her life, from the day she emerged from a very similar borrow – dazed,
energetic if not expectant or hopeful, and definitely dedicated to her life.

What amazes me is not the fact that her genes were so
perfectly modeled by natural selection to give her this life. Some call it
mechanical and mindless, but it is nothing but the simplest, and the one that
gives the best output not only in terms of passing on her progeny, but a
willful service to nature.

If I begin to count the efforts of this one wasp in monetary terms, her salary, for her size, is far too
rich than that of you and I. In today’s times, without making a monetary
comparison, it is impossible to deduce the value of any living being, whether
man or an animal. Although this is highly unfortunate, it happens to be the
only way many of us understand the true value
of nature: from a small mother wasp to the large bull elephant.

In this remarkable feat achieved by this wasp, rather one of
the many remarkable feats, she reminds me of a very simple emotion we mostly
associate with human life. In saying so, I am personifying the wasp as a man, but
that is only because we’re related – if not in the way we classify organisms –
certainly in the way of a mother.